


exogenous

by torigates



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 11:56:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torigates/pseuds/torigates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ex·og·e·nous</p>
<p>/ekˈsäjənəs/</p>
<p><i>adjective</i><br/>1.<br/>of, relating to, or developing from external factors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	exogenous

Sid liked his routines.

He knew this about himself. _Everyone_ from his family, to his team, to the entire hockey community knew this about him.

He liked his routines, and he didn't think there was anything wrong with that. He wanted to play hockey, he wanted to play _great_ hockey, and he was going to do anything and everything in his power to ensure he played the best hockey he could. If that meant he wore the same jock, or that he ate his peanut butter and jelly sandwich at the same time every day, then that was what Sid was going to fucking do.

He was, however, self aware enough to know that even though his routines suited him perfectly fine, they could sometimes--frequently--inconvenience those around him. Particularly those who spent a lot of time around him.

Sid was fundamentally a selfish person, he knew that about himself. Sure, some of his routines and idiosyncrasies were harmless and didn't affect anyone but himself, and Sid was a private person. He liked to keep his life as self contained as possible, but a lot of them spilled out into the world at large.

In turn, he tried to accommodate those who were affected.

Sid's entire life, his entire family life was consumed by Sid's hockey? He tried to pay them back by helping out more around the house when he lived at home, and by using his salary to help out after he was gone. He couldn't give money to the Lemieux family, and he wouldn't want to, but he tried his very best be an unobtrusive house guest, and clean up after himself. After, when it became clear that his stay was going to be extended, Sid tried really hard to fit in as part of the family, help out with chores, with the kids, whatever he could do to make up for his habits, and any annoyances he might cause.

It was simpler with the team. His routines got in the way of a lot of things, he knew that, but it was easy to make it up to them by playing the best hockey he could possibly play, by scoring a lot of goals, and winning a lot of hockey games. He figured if anything could make up for his jock it was the Stanley Cup, plus it wasn't like winning was a hardship for him.

None of it was, really. Sid knew himself, he knew what he was like, and he knew if there was anything he could do to help making being around him a little less painful, a little less irritating, less annoying, then he could and would do it.

It wasn't a perfect system, but it worked.

At least until Geno.

Not that he didn't appreciate Sid playing the best hockey he could play. Geno did appreciate it, Sid knew that for a fact, but Geno wasn't _just_ a teammate anymore

Geno had to put up with _a lot_ of Sid's habits and routines. He had to put up with _Sid_.

Sid knew Geno was special from the first moment they met. From before that, really. It wasn't until he _changed his routine_ for Geno that Sid knew he was well and truly fucked.

It wasn't that Sid was a bad person, not by any means. He donated time and money to the community, and he really did truly care about helping people, and about his friends and family and teammates. It was just that he was ultimately a selfish person, in particular when it came to his hockey, and he was always going to choose doing what was best for him and for the team above anyone's personal comfort.

Letting Geno go last, letting himself be persuaded by, "Me three years Superleague," wasn't something that Sid could have anticipated, and it wasn't something he really ever truly understood. Why was he willing to bend on that particular aspect? It wasn't _just_ Geno. There were a lot of things Sid wasn't willing to compromise for Geno, and yet.

He couldn't explain it, and he didn't really understand it, and even now more than half a decade later, why Sid had been willing to give on that one thing remained mostly a mystery to everyone.

Sid felt very strongly that he should _want_ to make concessions for Geno. His mom was always saying that relationships were about compromise. Sid had never been good at compromise, and if he was being honest, he had never really wanted to. He always felt like anyone he was going to date should fit themselves into his life and his hockey, and not the other way around.

Maybe it was the fact that Geno did fit himself so perfectly into Sid's hockey and into his life, that made Sid want to compromise. Geno didn't mind that Sid had to do things in a particular order, that his route on game days was absolute, that he had to eat at a certain time and very particular foods, and he even didn't mind Sid's weird no sex right before a game thing. In short, Geno was all about compromising.

Maybe it was that willingness to fit himself into the open spaces in Sid's life that made him want to compromise in turn for Geno. Not during the regular season, and _definitely_ not during playoffs, Sid didn't want to go crazy here, but the offseason--yeah. That seemed like something he could handle.

The question then became _what_ to do. The thought of planning for something in the off season before the regular season was even over made a tight panicky feeling bubble up inside Sid's chest, but he thought--July. No matter what happened, good or bad, hockey would be wrapped up by July and he and Geno could, well. They could do something.

"I'm sorry," Taylor said after a pointed silence, when Sid presented the problem to her. "It sounded like you were asking me for advice on what to do during your summer break."

"I was," Sid said grumpily. He wished he didn't know what she was getting at, but his reluctance and out and out refusal to plan for anything beyond the season was well known not only by his friends and family, but most of the hockey world.

"Uh huh," Taylor said. She sounded amused.

Sid stayed sullenly silent.

"Are you going to elaborate?" she asked after a moment.

He really hadn't been planning on it.

Taylor continued to wheedle him, until finally the entire story spilled out, almost against his will.

When he was done she let out an ear piercing squeal. Sid held the phone a foot away from his head and he could still hear her perfectly.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked when he could stand to bring the phone back to his ear.

"Nothing," Taylor said, he could hear the smile in her voice. "I'm just so happy. Proud of you, Sid."

Inexplicably, he felt his cheeks heat up. "I'm not doing anything to be proud of," he muttered.

Taylor just tsked, but didn't say anything else on the matter. Sid was glad. It wasn't that he had a problem with Taylor being proud of him--when he was doing things that merited praise, not when he was doing something as simple as showing his, well, his boyfriend common human courtesy.

"Take him on a trip," she said eventually, when the silence stretched on a few moments.

Sid considered this. It was a good idea, at least theoretically. Couples went on vacations together all the time. And Geno definitely enjoyed travelling, enjoyed doing new things. 

He sighed. Sid very much did not enjoy doing new things. 

Sid waited until they had three days off in a row before broaching the topic. That way, if something went horrifically wrong, he would have a day to recover and another day to get back into his routines. It was a solid plan. It made sense, and Sid took comfort from the steady, calming knowledge of knowing the steps to take and that he was going to take them. 

Geno was sleeping on his back, his legs and arms akimbo, and snoring loudly. Sid rolled on his side watching him sleep knowing it was creepy but unable to stop himself. He shifted on the bed, fitting himself into the crook of Geno’s arm, and he murmured quietly in his sleep pulling Sid closer. 

Sid squirmed happily, and pressed his face into Geno’s chest, unable to help cracking a smile. Geno wrapped his arm around Sid’s neck and placed his large palm over Sid’s mouth. 

“Shhh,” he said, barely awake. 

“I didn’t say anything,” Sid protested. His voice is muffled by Geno’s hand, and Sid wasn’t even sure Geno was awake enough to understand him even if it weren’t. 

They drowsed, Sid wasn’t sure how long. He traced idyl patterns across Geno’s stomach until Geno clamped his hand down on Sid’s stopping the movement. 

“Tickles,” he said. 

Sid smiled again and tried to worm his hand free, but Geno just tightened his grip. 

“No,” he said, as firmly as he could while his voice was still rough with sleep. 

Sid relaxed his arm. Maybe Geno would have been on higher alert had he been more awake, but when he released Sid’s hand, Sid poked him in the belly a couple times in rapid succession. Geno groaned and rolled over so Sid’s body was trapped beneath his, and he pressed both of Sid’s wrists down into the mattress. 

Sid’s breath caught. 

“Sleep more,” Geno mumbled, his face mashed up against Sid’s neck. 

Except, there was no way Sid was going back to sleep now, not with Geno’s heavy weight pressing him down into the bed, and his wrists pinned. He spread his legs, letting Geno fall into the now empty space between them, and pressed up a little. 

“Geno,” he said. 

Geno hummed but didn’t move.

Sid groaned. “Can you at least get off me so I can jerk off, please?” 

He felt Geno’s smile pressed against his neck, but he still didn’t move from on top of Sid. 

Sid tugged a little on the grip Geno had on his wrists, but apparently the same move wasn’t going to work twice in five minutes. Geno dug his fingers into his wrists a little tighter in retaliation.

Sid huffed, which wasn’t easy with Geno’s entire weight pressing him down. He kicked his legs out a little bit until he could press his feet flat on the mattress, and rocking his hips up against Geno’s belly. 

“Sid,” he groaned, although it sounded more frustrated than annoyed. 

His dick was getting hard in his boxers, and maybe there wasn’t enough friction to get him off completely, but Sid was pretty sure if he kept it up long enough Geno would either get with the program or get off of him, and either way was ending in an orgasm for Sid so he didn’t particularly care which one. 

Sid curled his leg around Geno’s hip, tucking his calf around the back of Geno’s thigh and rocked up against Geno’s body in a smooth motion. The fabric of his underwear dragged harsh against his erection, but it still felt good, and Geno’s body was heavy and hot on top of him. 

He wasn’t sure how long he kept that up, but Geno finally groaned, and released one of Sid’s wrists, sticking his hand down between them and taking Sid’s dick in a firm grip. He gasped and bucked up into Geno’s hand, dry and tight, but still so perfect. 

He pulled on the hand that Geno was holding until he was free and shoved both their boxers down so they could rock against each other. Sid held his palm up to Geno’s mouth, and he licked a hot stripe across Sid’s palm before sucking on two of Sid’s fingers, getting them wet. 

Sid moaned, pressing up further into Geno’s hand, before reaching down between them and getting a slick palm on Geno’s hard cock. Geno groaned, low and rough in Sid’s ear. The sound went straight to Sid’s dick, hard and aching. 

It didn’t take long after that for both of them to come. Geno dropped heavily over Sid, tucking his arms behind Sid’s back and hugging him tightly. Sid found he didn’t much care that breathing was becoming difficult. He liked Geno on top of him, a heavy reminder that he wasn’t going anywhere and neither was Sid. 

“I’ve been thinking,” Sid said after a moment of the two of them just breathing together. 

Geno grunted. 

“I think we should go away somewhere in the summer,” he continued. “July is probably best.” 

Geno didn’t say anything for a moment, before he propped himself up on his elbows so he could look Sid in the eye. 

“Feeling okay?” he asked. 

Sid shot him a look. “Yes?” he said. He’d just had an orgasm after a good night’s sleep, and Geno was warm and soft in their bed together. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Sid talk about vacation?” Geno asked. 

“Yeah,” Sid said. He put his hands down on the mattress, and pushed until he could pull himself upright, settling back against the headboard. 

“Plan for offseason?” Geno asked, like he still wasn’t sure what exactly was going on. 

Sid huffed. It wasn’t that he couldn’t understand Geno’s confusion. But he didn’t particularly enjoy the reminder that he was so fussy even broaching the topic of taking a trip with his boyfriend was cause for disbelief. 

Geno shifted so he was leaning against Sid’s shoulder, and put the back of his hand against Sid’s forehead. 

“Don’t feel hot,” Geno said, although this time Sid could hear the faint smile in his voice. 

“I don’t need to have a fever to suggest that we take a trip together!” He said, defensive despite himself. 

“True,” Geno allowed. “Trip for hockey all the time.” 

Sid smacked him in the stomach. 

“Serious, Sid?” Geno asked after a moment, peering up at Sid through his eyelashes. He looked hopeful and happy, and any lingering doubts Sid might have had about planning something in advance were banished by Geno’s expression. 

“Yeah,” Sid said. “I thought you might--like it.” 

Geno wrapped his arms around Sid and squeezed so hard Sid swore he could almost hear his ribs creaking. “We go Russia?” he asked. 

“Um.” Sid had been thinking something a little less overseas to be honest, but if that was what Geno wanted he could probably make it work. 

Geno shook his head before Sid had the chance to voice his assent. “Okay, Sid,” he said. “We go somewhere else.” 

Sid hated how relieved he felt. “No,” he said. “It’s for--you. If you want to go to Russia we can--”

Geno cut him off with a quick kiss on the mouth. “Next summer, maybe,” he said. 

Sid nodded jerkily, and hoped it didn’t show on his face how much thinking about a year and a half into the future freaked him out. 

Geno just patted his stomach soothingly. 

Sid had originally wanted to take Geno back to Cole Harbour, but after he vetoed Russia as an option, it didn’t seem particularly fair to bring Geno home. The same went for LA where Sid liked to train sometimes in the summer. This was supposed to be their vacation, not Sid taking Geno along with him on his regular summer plans. 

This did, however, leave Sid at a bit of a loss as to where the _could_ go. He never had much of a travel bug. Sid wasn’t sure if it was because of all the mandatory travelling he did because of hockey or because if he was travelling then he wasn’t playing hockey, but as much as he searched his brain he couldn’t come up with anything that seemed exactly right.

After a month of mulling it over, Sid decided asking Geno was probably the best plan. 

“Where do you want to go?” 

They were in Geno’s living room. Sid was sitting on the couch watching game tape. Geno was ostensibly reading, but it looked more like napping from where Sid was sitting. 

He looked over and raised his eyebrow at Sid, who continued to stare at him expectantly. 

“Not read mind, Sid,” Geno said. 

“Oh,” Sid said. “Right. For our trip?” 

Geno sat up a little on his elbows. “Somewhere hot,” he said. “Beach?” 

Sid scrunched up his nose. He burned. “Okay,” he said. 

Geno smiled and got up from the couch, walking across the room and planting a kiss on the top of Sid’s head before turning towards the kitchen probably to make them lunch. 

 

-

 

This was how Sid found himself not quite three months later standing on the deck of their private cabin in St. Lucia staring out across white sand as impossibly blue waves crashed loudly against the shore. 

“We go swim?” Geno asked hopefully. 

After a slight distraction that consisted of Geno rubbing sunblock on Sid’s neck, back, and shoulders, they made their way down to the water. 

Geno dove in without hesitation, leaving Sid no choice but to follow behind him. The water was warm. A lot warmer than Sid was expecting, given his experience with the Atlantic Ocean. 

By mid afternoon Sid was relaxed and sleepy. Perhaps a little too warm, judging by the way his skin was pinking up. He hissed a little when he poked at it. 

Geno put his palm hot and heavy on Sid’s lower back, rubbing a little. “Poor Sid,” he said, only the faintest trace of teasing in his voice. “Not good in sun.” 

Sid spent the rest of the day hiding in the shade of a large tree, Geno stretched out on a beach towel soaking up the sun like a contented cat. It was nice, he had to admit. Realy nice. 

At night Geno convinced him to turn the AC off and leave the windows open, because apparently he was some kind of fiend from hell who thrived on heat. It didn’t make any sense. They were hockey players. Geno was from _Russia_. 

Still, Sid put up with it. He woke up with the thin sheets plastered all along his stomach and thighs, Geno was a furnace behind him, pressed all along the back of Sid’s body. He moved away a little and kicked at the sheets petulantly until he could feel the faint breeze coming in from the window. It wasn’t cool, not exactly, but he felt goosebumps rise up on his skin nonetheless, tacky and damp with sweat. 

Geno shuffled closer in his sleep, and wrapped a heavy arm around Sid’s torso. The clock on the bedside table said 4:30 and already faint streaks of light are coming through the window. 

Sid pushed at Geno’s arm, for once too hot and uncomfortable to want him close. Geno grunted and pulled Sid closer. Sid let out an annoyed whine and squirmed trying to get free. Geno reached out in his sleep and patted Sid’s head a little. 

“Shhh,” he said. “Sleeping, Sid.” 

“Get off me,” Sid whispered. “It’s too hot.” 

He could see Geno smile through the darkness, and he pulled his arm tighter around Sid. “Close,” he said. “Better.” 

“No,” Sid said. “I’m sweaty.” 

Geno hummed, content. “Good.” He pulled until Sid’s back was flush against the long line of Geno’s body, and began running his hands in soothing circles low against his belly. Sid was tired and hot, but his body was basically conditioned to react to Geno’s touch at this point. He tucked the tips of his fingers into the elastic of Sid’s briefs. Sid whined and pushed back into Geno’s hips, gratified to feel he was getting hard too. 

He teased Sid for a few moments longer, before taking hold of Sid’s underwear and shoving it down his hips. Sid kicked his legs a little until they were all the way off. He gasped when Geno rubbed his palm over the head of Sid’s dick, smearing precome and getting his cock wet. 

Geno’s mouth was hot and slick on the back of Sid’s neck, and his hand moved in sure steady strokes with a twist at the top that made Sid moan and arch. Geno had his other hand clamped firm against Sid’s hip, anchoring him with a grip that was sure to leave bruises. He stroked Sid with a tight fist that left Sid helpless but to rock back against Geno’s hard cock, revelling in the way it felt against the crease of his ass. 

When Sid came, it was with an extended gasp, and Geno pushed on his hips until Sid rolled onto his front. Geno gripped him tightly as he fucked hard into the tight, sweaty clutch of Sid’s thighs, the crease of his ass. Every other stroke the head of Geno’s dick would brush against Sid’s hole and the two of them would gasp wetly together. 

It didn’t take long for Geno to come like that, fucking Sid into the mattress. Sid wished he was on his knees so he could see the head of Geno’s dick poke out from between where his legs were pressed together, but Geno was pressing him down into the bed and fucking him hard, and Sid felt hot and tired and overwhelmed from his own orgasm. 

When Geno came he rolled over and pulled Sid with him so neither of them were lying in the wet spot. The sheets were damp from the humidity in the air and their combine sweat, but Sid found the heat wasn’t so suppressing anymore. 

He drifted off to sleep. 

The next time he woke it was to the mattress shifting under Geno’s weight as he climbed back into bed, and settled against the headboard. He was holding two mugs of coffee, but he set one down on the nightstand before taking a slow sip from his own.

Sid blinked sleepily up at him. “Good morning,” he said, his voice sleep rough.

“Morning,” Geno said with a grin. “Sleep good?” 

Sid nodded, and pressed his face into Geno’s hip, before rolling on his back and stretching his arms and legs out until he felt several vertebrae in his back pop. He sighed with relief. 

“What we do today?” Geno asked. 

Sid shrugged and snuggled closer. His body was still hot, but he wasn’t sure whether that was from the temperature, or the sunburn he got yesterday. Probably a bit of both. 

“Whatever you want,” he said happily. 

“What Sid want?” Geno asked. 

Sid looked up at him. Geno was looking at him patiently and drinking from his mug. Sid considered his words before answering. 

“It doesn’t matter to me,” he said eventually. “I just want you to have a good time.” 

“Sid not have good time?” Geno asked, a slight furrow forming between his eyebrows. 

Sid sat up hastily. “No,” he said. “No, I am. I’m happy because I’m here with you.” 

Geno leaned forward and kissed Sid on the lips. 

“I’m happy too,” Geno said. “But you not want do something? You planned trip.” 

“I planned it for you,” Sid said. 

Geno looked at him. “What you mean,” he said. 

Sid pressed his face into Geno’s shoulder. “I know that I’m… difficult,” Sid said. “I put you through a lot.” He paused. “A lot. And I feel bad about it, and I appreciate what you do, and I just wanted to, I don’t know. I wanted to do something for you to say thank you and I love you.” 

Geno was silent. Sid was afraid to look up from where he had hidden his face against Geno’s skin. It was warm and familiar, and most importantly, it wasn’t judging him for his perhaps ill timed confession of love. 

Finally, Geno placed his fingers under Sid’s face and tilted his chin up so Sid had no choice but to meet Geno’s eyes. 

“Sid,” he said. “You best, and I’m--I’m love you too. I not care about superstitions or weird or _anything_. Best,” he said more firmly, and cupped his palms around Sid’s face and kissed him on the mouth so, so sweetly. 

Sid felt his face heating up, and not just from the sunburn. 

“So yeah,” he said when Geno pulled back. “That’s--that’s good.” 

Geno looked at him with a fond expression on his face. One Sid had always taken to mean, you’re weird and I’m putting up with it, but maybe he was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t about Geno putting up with Sid, or even about Sid fitting Geno into his life--although he definitely wanted to do so. Maybe it was more about the two of them fitting together perfectly off the ice in the same way the did together in the arena. Maybe it wasn’t about Geno putting up with Sid’s weirdness, or liking him despite of it. Maybe it was just about the way they worked together, always, in every way. 

And Sid--Sid didn’t like change, but this was something he could get used to. Definitely. 

“Yes,” Geno said.


End file.
